Tulpa

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Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Last night did not go exactly the way I wanted it to...
Was it last night or the night before?

I am actually getting better at remembering things, I swear. This morning, I wrote a long number in the air and I can 'look' at it any time I want to. If I am unsure of one digit, then I can just squint and see the elevation of that digit. If there are, say, a majority of C's in the word, then I will be able to highlight them in red (or at least it feels like red when I look at them, as if they have significance or weight).

I don't know why I can write things in the air all of the sudden. I think making a tulpa helped with the visualization parts of my brain. They are just letters or numbers in the air that I can move around with my hands, point to at random, say what they are, then get slightly freaked out. I think in tulpa terminology, it could be related to an HUD servitor. I tried making a compass servitor before. It resided in the bottom left of my visual field. Instead of pointing north, it would point to a building that I frequently visited. Interesting, but I lost interest after a few weeks for some reason.

I probably did not mention this, but I've had a broken elbow since last November (at least). It is not so painful as it is annoying. That means it has been broken for at least six months. That's not normal, is it? I went to Google to find out:

"Certain fractures in young kids can heal as quickly as 3 weeks, while it
may take as long as 6 weeks for the same kind of fracture to heal in
teens. And some fractures can take as long as 10 weeks to heal." - source

Surely this is not a professional source. I thought it took at least a month or two.

"Some tibial shaft fractures heal within 4 months, yet many may take 6 months or longer to heal." - source

Sunday, April 27, 2014

I was just handed the memory of a razor in this very room-- the farthest place from my bedroom. Scratch that. Two razors. One is to cut bags of salt, so it's rusted over. It won't do. The other is... Three. I could snap the letter opener in half to reveal the blade. The original one is a pocket knife whose case is broken, so I put it in the pen drawer.

I'm calling a hotline. If I publish a post that says I'm going to do something, then I'll do it before I begin to think of anything else. No time to check for typos.

The experiment is working. I can remember a few things. I am surprised at least once a day when my subconscious picks up a memory and I, without thinking, find it in my hands. A foreign feeling.

At this moment, however, I am very alone and I was just handed the memory of the exact location of a needle in my haystack of a room. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it or it was just implied, but my depression has lead to self harm before.

As illogical as it is, I think very hard before and during the event.
In the moment, I am worthless. I have hit a rock bottom. I have rediscovered or redefined internal pain. I am sure of this-- in that moment, I am worthless because it is my attitude that shapes my world.
Near this time, all of the good things that I know happened to me recently become hollow.
It might have to do with control. I am not sure.

As soon as I enter my room, I'll have already lost. And I need to sleep some time.

There's nothing left to say about that, so I'll try to make a list of all of the things the voices say while you try not to call the local exorcist on me. None of these voices is my (original) tulpa.
"Are you afraid?"
"Are you alright?"
"Are you okay?"
"Get out of my head."
"Get out of his head."
"Get out of her head."
"I don't know."
"It's alright."
"I'm not afraid of anything."
"I'm sorry."
"Kill me, please."
"Where are you?"
"Why are you so scared?"
"Why are you still here?"
"You're fine."

I cannot think of any more. Oh. Nevermind.
"Yes you can."
They tend to contradict everything I say. The poor fellows can't help but make me out to be a liar by their accusations. This may be connected to the way I think of every option I can, being unbiased, or overthink.

The voices do not take over or anything. We're very much harmless-- I've lost 5-10lbs this month and I nearly faint if I miss a meal. I even find it exhausting to open doors.

We covered cutting, not being able to feel anything, and voices already-- am I missing anything? Oh. I'm perfectly fine. I have a great life. I'm just more mentally calloused than the next.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

A lot has happened in the time I've been gone. I still talk to my tulpa when my brain is functioning and I occasionally get feedback. This all started out as a way for me to get my memories back, so that's what I've been doing lately. I've changed my diet to exclude carbs and sugars. The keto diet. Life is a blurry dream to me, but I've noticed a few changes. I can remember my address and phone number of my childhood home. I started out at 135lbs and lost about 3lbs a week until I hit a wall at 125lbs. I basically lost 10lbs in a month, so I don't have that to worry about (yes, I still worry about ridiculous things).

Also interesting is that I am beginning to be able to write words in the air, rearrange the letters, and generally freak myself out more than usual.

Friday, November 30, 2012

I know that I usually begin my posts with a date in an unlogical order. I glance at the right hand corner and type what feels natural. This is an unconscious process, as in right now, I don't know what part of the date to type first.

Something in my head shouts, "Monday!" I know it is not Monday. It is Saturday. No. It's Friday still.

I suppose it is a good philosophy to just try something because one thing tends to lead to another.

I don't remember typing in any posts, but a few minutes ago, something in my head said, "Maybe you should talk about that in your blog." I don't remember what 'that' was, but it had to do with tulpae, doubt, and something else that I can't quite 'link to'.

Like I said, I can't remember typing any of these posts because of a sort of memory loss. I can't remember a lot, but I know about them. I know I have a blog, but I don't remember any posts and I don't remember typing any of them.

Friday, November 30, 2012, 9:07PM

I typed a D for December, only to correct myself.

It doesn't give me a creepy feeling or a surprised feeling, but more of the feeling you would get if you got well into your day and found that everyone believed in magic, cast spells, and had done so their entire lives. Everyone would be nonchalant about it as well. You would feel a little like you are still waking up. It would be like someone telling you something that you can understand, but you can't make sense of. Like it's on the tip of your ear. You would feel like going with the crowd. You would feel like trying to remember. You would be a little confused as to how you could have forgotten. You know that delay that is in between receiving information and making sense out of it? That delay is normally too short to notice, but now that you are stuck in that delay, you take in the sensation and you are suddenly filled in. Your perspective changes.

Now that I got sidetracked, I'll probably not post this because of the above paragraph.

Let's talk about tulpae.

Recently, I gave up on the entire tulpa project, more or less. More recently, however, I've felt a stronger connection to my tulpa's voice and perhaps presence (ASMR). Was it because the burden of 'needing' to create a tulpa was off my shoulders? Was it because I stumbled into forums about tulpae? Maybe it was just realizing that I'm not the terrible person I thought I was. I changed my perspective. Somehow. I know the feeling.

Evidently, my tulpa has been speaking to me. According to this source, one cannot parrot accidentally. If this is true, then... wow. It seems ridiculous to say: "I parroted accidentally." Using logical equivalences, it would be equivalent to "My tulpa spoke to me." I had so much doubt in myself. Really, my doubt was blinding.

What saved this project was that I tried. Even when I quit, I still could not let it go. I spoke to my tulpa casually because I didn't have anything more to lose. I may have listened less intensely. I may have done everything less intensely.

Self

I am a straight edge, hardcore vocalist without a band in an old-fashioned town. I am influenced by tragedy and hope. I want life to speed up, but I want time to slow down.
I've been on a 3-year search for someone I don't even know.
I used to be really normal, but recently I have been quite the opposite. I am growing further from everyone else and closer to acting like myself.